Purify
by Melissa the Sheep
Summary: All the vanity he ever had, he distilled into Pride hundreds of years ago. (Manga-based. Hohenheim, Pride, Greed.)


**Purify** by Melissa the Sheep

For fma500 challenge #8, "Vanity."

Manga-based.

**Summary:** All the vanity he ever had, he distilled into Pride hundreds of years ago.  
**Characters/pairings:** Unrequited Hohenheim/Pinako, Pride, Greed  
**Spoilers:** Through chapter 40

**Date:** April 23, 2005  
**Disclaimer:** Fullmetal Alchemist belongs to various people and corporations, who are all far richer and more famous than me because of it. Bleh.  
**Archive:** List/community archives and by submission. Otherwise, ask.

* * *

Pride's voice twines around Hohenheim, soft and insidious and serpentine, glibly prodding at insecurities that a different man might have felt--insecurities that he might have felt once.

"Will you let a little woman like Pinako unnerve you?" she whispers. Her ephemeral form is barely visible, settled weightlessly on the straight-backed chair in the corner. "Are you too scared to tell her what you feel?"

And Hohenheim just smiles. She shares his soul and she's the oldest of his homunculi, but she still can't understand.

"It's not a matter of honor or courage, Pride."

Pinako is bold and brash and blunt, and that's what he loves about her. She wouldn't want his love, because she has such little interest in men, and she would not mince words to spare his feelings. He's silent, but not for fear of the terse rejection, and not for fear of wounded dignity. It's for fear that she would reject his friendship as well.

And so none of what Pride says matters to him--all the vanity he ever had, he distilled into her hundreds of years ago, frustrated by the sting of a different woman's rejection. When Pride first opened her eyes and sneered up at him, he had never before felt so free, so pure. For years, he was satisfied to let Pride fret about expectations, about what people will think, while he pursued his work unencumbered.

When, decades later, he found himself coveting the wife of his friend, he poured those desires into Envy. When, after another human lifetime, he found himself fascinated by a widowed noblewoman, he freed himself by giving birth to Greed. When he pined for the baker's daughter, he created Gluttony. When he realized one spring that his work was lagging as he wooed a girl, he made Sloth to take that burden.

There are five of them now--his flaws incarnated--and still he keeps slipping away from his studies, his work, and his purpose. His soul is still not purified enough.

Beside Hohenheim's chair, Greed laughs. It's a cutting sound, sharp as his teeth. "It's not that complicated, you smug bitch. He just _wants_ her, that's all."

"What makes you think Father is anything like _you?_" Pride snaps. "You're a disgrace, with your carousing and your theft and your whoring."

"Nobody ever died from wanting too much," Greed replies petulantly.

Pride sneers. "But nobody ever wanted as much as you."

Greed snarls, and, shield raised, lunges at the shadows where Pride lurks. There's a clatter as he knocks over Pride's chair.

"Stupid," Pride says as she drifts across the room to another corner. Greed lunges again.

"You'll never catch me," she whispers, hovering beside Greed's ear for a moment, flitting away as he swipes at her with a clawed hand.

Pride stands in mid-air, just out of Greed's reach. "You can't hurt--"

"Enough," Hohenheim murmurs. If this continues, Greed will just cause more and more damage to the room without ever touching Pride. He's beginning to regret making Pride so ephemeral--she might goad Greed less if he posed a real threat to her. "Shame on you both."

Only Pride seems to feel the sting of those words. She sinks back to the floor, and her face flushes translucent pink against the dark edge of the room. Greed has no shame, and is not yet placated. He swipes again at Pride now that she's standing still. His claws glide through her as if she were only air. Hohenheim knows it doesn't cause her physical pain, but the added humiliation must hurt her deeply. Greed snarls in frustration.

"Greed," Hohenheim calls sternly. "Stop it."

Greed looks to him briefly--he would probably scowl if he weren't wearing his shield--then snarls again and buries his claws in the wall. He pulls away a handful of plaster and wallpaper.

Hohenheim knows it will cut Pride even more, but he has to say it to stop Greed's rampage: "Greed, my son, you were right. It is just want. Just lust."

Greed claws the wall once more in defiance, then lets his shield melt away. He's smirking when his face turns back to flesh, but he moves back to Hohenheim's side and stands there quietly. It's almost obedient. Almost.

Pride makes a little inarticulate noise, perhaps stopping herself from speaking more angry words, perhaps choking back a wounded sob. She floats quickly out of the room.

Now that his sitting room is peaceful, Hohenheim can think again. What he said to placate Greed was the truth--every one of his homunculi was made because of a woman.

Perhaps he's been distilling all the wrong sins.

* * *

** End **

* * *

This was just going to be Hohenheim and Pride, but then Greed barged in. Cheeky bastard. 


End file.
